


Falling For You

by frozenasphalt



Series: Ivy [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, American AU, Angst, Catholic School, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Religion, Romance, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, cliches all over, flowery ass inconsistent writing, i know virtually nothing about catholicism, or the one where autumn tries to fit as many corny tropes into one fic as possible, sex in a chapel!!!!, so much blasphemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:03:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8639911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenasphalt/pseuds/frozenasphalt
Summary: Brooding High School freshman Kyungsoo struggles to get his crush Chanyeol, a popular senior, to take him seriously.





	1. Oh Love (How You Break Me Up)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you see me? I think I'm falling,  
> I'm falling for you  
> Don't you need me? I think I'm falling,  
> I'm falling for you  
> I don't wanna be your friend,  
> I wanna kiss your neck ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3JJxS0gNkE))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chanyeol's Perfect and Kyungsoo's Sad.

Kyungsoo didn’t know the word, hadn’t yet developed the vocabulary for what he felt when his mother revealed that she was leaving his father and best friend, for another man when he was seven. His father had been ailing; colon cancer discovered in its fourth stage was eating him away faster than Kyungsoo could blink. He was given two weeks to live and Kyungsoo’s mother had been reduced to an apparition at his side, a hollow shell of her previous self. Weak and unable to bear seeing her husband deteriorate any longer, she gave up on him and left him to die, seeking comfort in another man’s arms.

“There’s nothing they can do,” she had explained to a blubbering Kyungsoo who still couldn’t fully comprehend why any of this was happening to  _his_  Papa. “I’m so sorry, baby.” The smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes, a visor to aid her in forgetting her indignity. Kyungsoo had pushed her away when she attempted to hold him close and darted down the hall to watch his father, who was connected to machines, a lump of motionless flesh in his hospital bed, through the window outside of his room.

No more than a week later, Kyungsoo stood powerless as he watched men in black suits lower his father’s body into the ground. His mom held his hand tight in her own and looking back, Kyungsoo can only describe the bitter taste in his mouth, rain-soaked soil mixed with ash, as resentment. She hadn’t shed a single tear, not in front of Kyungsoo at least. But then again, why would she? She gained his father’s entire inheritance, was anticipating a deluge of money and already had a wealthy, new replacement for him. Kyungsoo resented her, resented himself and pent those feelings up inside until he was filled to capacity. Until he inevitably burst. And by the age of nine, he had already been expelled from two schools. His teachers claimed he had a “behavioral problem” and the only thing his mother had done in response was peer down at Kyungsoo with revulsion, like she wasn’t at all culpable for the way he had turned out. Kyungsoo underwent therapy until the age of eleven, until he’d forced himself to grapple with and accept the fact that there really was nothing his mom or anyone else could have done to save his dad.

Now fourteen years old, Kyungsoo tries his hardest not to resent her when she decides to move halfway across the country. The all boys catholic school she forces him to attend, however, is more than an overstep.

He couldn’t help but gripe about the move. “It’ll be good for you,” she’d assured him. “It’s more…your pace. Maybe you’ll finally make some friends there.”

(Kyungsoo remained quiet though he  _had_  resented her condescending tone.)

 

In the chapel on the first day of school, resentment sits in his belly like a boulder and he acquires that same bitter taste of ash in his mouth. He doesn’t recognize that it’s actually the scent of cigarette smoke until he’s tapped on the shoulder from behind.

“Yo, do you have cologne in that thing?” the source of the vile smell asks, gesturing to Kyungsoo’s backpack, which is bursting at the seams with supplies. Kyungsoo’s eyes narrow. He examines the boy from over his shoulder. The freshman had been instructed to sit on the right side of the auditorium, the seniors on the left, yet here this older guy was, hunched over in the pew behind Kyungsoo, far too close for comfort.

Nametags had been divvied out at the door, and though this stranger is wearing his upside down, Kyungsoo reads it as Chanyeol Park at first glance. He’s got large eyes and a boyish face, ears like an Elvin prince and even from where he sits, Kyungsoo can tell he’s freakishly tall. His uniform is unkempt; his tie is undone and his white button down shirt isn’t ironed or tucked into his pants, his blazer tossed over his shoulder. He looks like he’s running on three hours of sleep, tops; his eye bags are boundless, his hair is chaotic, longer than code allows and dyed silver. Kyungsoo’s staring must get uncomfortable because Chanyeol frowns and squirms as he takes the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, lips and tongue tinged a lifeless-looking blue. Kyungsoo crinkles his nose.

“Please, man. I left my cologne at home and I smell like smokes.” Chanyeol explains. “My dad’s gonna amputate both my legs if he smells it on me, I shit you  _not_.”

_His dad?_  Kyungsoo thinks, confused. He succumbs to the pout Chanyeol is wearing with a sigh and unzips his backpack, delves through it and pulls out his travel size bottle of cologne. Wordlessly, he hands it over to Chanyeol, who beams and sprays so much that it makes Kyungsoo cough. Kyungsoo glowers at him.

“I didn’t know that was allowed,” Kyungsoo comments once Chanyeol returns his cologne. He can’t help but ogle at this guy’s wild mess of hair.

“What? Smoking or my hair?”

“Both.”

Chanyeol smirks. He opens his mouth to respond but unbidden, three boys come bounding into the auditorium, shouting Chanyeol’s name.

“Seniors are on this side, idiot,” one of the boys tells Chanyeol. He’s about Kyungsoo’s height, with a skinny frame and a strident voice whose nametag reads Baekhyun Byun. He waves at Kyungsoo and smiles widely before yanking Chanyeol up by the arm and dragging him to the other side of the pews, ignoring Chanyeol's squeals of disapproval.

Just then, a man in black enters the auditorium and introduces himself as the principal and priest of the church, Father Park.

_Wait._

“Ok, everyone. Welcome,” Father Park says, clapping his hands together too loudly for eight o’ clock in the morning. “Freshman, tablets out. I’ve sent a name to your emails. That’s your senior mentor  _for the year_ , so once you open it, go over and introduce yourselves to your senior. Seniors, you are to treat the underclassman who greets you as a little sibling and take them under your oh-so-loving wings! After you’re paired up, I want you all to chat until the bell for first period sounds, get to know each other. Good luck on your first day!” And with that, he leaves them all to it.

Finger hesitant, Kyungsoo opens his inbox, clicks the email, and frowns when he reads his assigned mentor’s name.

Chanyeol Park.

Lips pressed in a tight line, Kyungsoo remains seated like a stone and watches the other freshmen get up to mingle with the seniors on the other side of the room. He glances towards the direction Baekhyun had dragged Chanyeol in, finds the mop of silver hair that towers over everyone else. Chanyeol is already looking at him expectantly. A dumb grin spreads across his face when Kyungsoo meets his eyes and he points at himself and then at Kyungsoo in silent question. As Kyungsoo nods his head in affirmation, Chanyeol puts his fists up in hurrah and reluctantly, Kyungsoo gets up and pads over towards him.

With a toothy dimpled smile, Chanyeol grips Kyungsoo’s shoulders, overeager. The invasion of personal space takes Kyungsoo aback and he stiffens like a British royal guard on contact. “What are the odds you got me? This is gonna be awesome.” Kyungsoo bats his hands away and Chanyeol’s dimples vanish as quickly as they’d appeared.  

“I guess.”

To Kyungsoo, the entire prospect of senior mentors just seems like a waste of time. He doesn’t understand why they couldn’t have just been assigned alphabetically to save the hassle. But then, that’s just one of the many things he doesn’t understand about this school. There are so many rules; he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow accustomed to carrying a bible and rosary beads to bible class or having to pray before meals. He isn’t even religious. And just because the seniors are older doesn’t mean they’re any kinder or smarter or more “spiritually mature”. Most of them are just dumb kids keeping up appearances for their parents’ and teachers’ sakes.

Chanyeol surprises Kyungsoo.

 

Meticulously, Kyungsoo cleans his locker with an antiseptic wipe before he organizes it because although it appeared clean, he can never be too sure. He straightens his mirror till it’s perfect and then goes to peruse his schedule (he’s already memorized it but again, he can never be too sure). Before he can do so, the piece of paper is being snatched from his hands.

“Let me see,” Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo scowls at him. _Rude._ He watches Chanyeol gawk as he scans his schedule.  “Wait, what the hell? We’re in the same first period class? You’re taking AP Trigonometry? How is that even possible? Are you a kid genius or something?”

“No,” Kyungsoo snarls, retrieving his schedule from Chanyeol and folding it back up. He sticks it in his pocket and closes his locker. “I just like math.”

“Well, at least one of us does. I heard this class is a  _nightmare_. I’m taking it because I’ve been Class President two years straight and I gotta keep up appearances.” Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t think Chanyeol looks like Class President material.  “Here, let me carry your bag.” Despite the fact that Kyungsoo had wanted to walk to class alone, he lets Chanyeol take it. They start making their way to Trig and Chanyeol toddles dramatically with each step. “Arg, what do you have in here? Encyclopedias?  It’s literally the first day!”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. He notes Chanyeol doesn’t have as much as a notebook with him, equipped with only a pencil tucked behind his ear. How did  _he_  even make it into AP Trig exactly? “I like to be prepared.”

Chanyeol hums and Kyungsoo doesn’t know why it sounds sardonic to his ears.

“Your dad is the principal?” Kyungsoo inquires.

“Huh? Ah. Yeah.”

“But what about clerical celibacy? I thought priests weren’t allowed to have kids. Sorry.”

Chanyeol chuckles. “No, it’s ok; I get it all the time. He’s technically my uncle. My single mom died when I was a baby, so he adopted me before he even entered the priesthood.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I didn’t know her.”

Awkward silence grows like something toxic and Kyungsoo finds himself wishing he’d never opened his mouth, wishing that this school wasn’t so enormous (if it weren’t for orientation he would have gotten lost in the twisting, mazelike corridors). At long last, they arrive at their destination and Kyungsoo thanks Chanyeol, takes his bag back from him, and locates a seat in the very front of the room.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Chanyeol says before ambling away. “I noticed we have the same lunch period, too. So you’d better come find me then, okay?” Kyungsoo nods. Chanyeol shoots another one of those blinding smiles at him and goes to consort with Baekhyun at the back of the room.

 

There are several things Kyungsoo dislikes about Chanyeol. He pops candies like they’re vitamins, like they’re his life blood, and Kyungsoo swears he’s on a perpetual sugar-high. He owns an endless supply of band tees, wears them under his uniform and listens to Metallica too loud in his headphones (not that Kyungsoo doesn’t like Metallica. On the contrary, he listens to many of the same bands as Chanyeol does and they’ve bonded over music quite a bit. Kyungsoo is just worried Chanyeol’s habits will cause him to go deaf). He smokes like a fish and laughs louder than the revving of an engine and is always tripping over his size twelve converse and does he even own a hairbrush? But his smile is pleasant, Kyungsoo decides halfway into the first week of school, even if his mouth is enormous and Kyungsoo is sure he has more teeth than a human is supposed to.

Kyungsoo especially likes that his smiles are as frequent as they are genuine and his eyes are always lit up, like there’s a light shining from behind them even when carrying out the most mundane tasks like carrying Kyungsoo’s oversized Trig book to class (Kyungsoo feels bad that he’s become his official backpack-servant), or buying him food even though Kyungsoo tells him not to. He has his back when Baekhyun pokes fun at his Shrek lunch-pail (“dude. it’s ironic.”) and comes to his defense when their friend Yixing questions Kyungsoo’s need for everything to be tidy and soon Kyungsoo finds himself at a permanent spot at Chanyeol’s friend-group’s table. He’d been intimidated to sit with them at first, but Chanyeol had introduced him and talked him through his nerves, complementing him and praising him to his friends with a gentle hand at the curve of Kyungsoo’s back. It made him feel at ease.

What Kyungsoo hates the most is the way his heart swells every time Chanyeol smiles at him, has no control over the vicious flips in his stomach each time Chanyeol warps his stupidly long arm around his shoulder and pulls him into his side.

Like always, Kyungsoo opts to disregard it.

 

This isn’t the first time Kyungsoo has come home to find his mom and step-dad arguing. They’re standing in the middle of the kitchen (haven’t they even the slightest consideration to go into a room with a door?), probably squabbling about whose turn it is to buy groceries or something equally as insignificant because it doesn’t take them much to go at it these days. Kyungsoo doesn’t care to find out, just pops in his headphones in and drowns it out like he’s done time and time again.

The reason his mom can never seem to catch a break with his step dad is because she’s being punished for how she treated his dad, Kyungsoo is sure of it. Karma is an even bigger bitch than she is.

He doesn’t want to think about it, instead locks himself in his room and cranks up the latest Frank Ocean album where he changes out of his uniform and into joggers. He finishes unpacking the contents of what’s left of his moving boxes and breezes through his homework. After he’s finished reading ahead several chapters for History, he doesn’t bother letting his mom know he’s going outside to ride his bike around to explore the neighborhood. He slips out of the backdoor unnoticed.

The ride is just what he’d needed. The wind is a susurrant whisper through the trees, the setting sun an alleviating lick against his skin. He admires how pristine everything looks, from the streets to the lawns to the shrubbery and he thinks his mom actually did well for once in choosing this place. He greets a charming couple and stops to pet their enormous Great Dane, a gentle giant. It gives him an added boost of exhilaration and as he petals off hastily, rounding a corner, something strikes him so hard he’s knocked off of his bike. The sound of breaks screeching to a halt blaring, he’s sent flying, hits the pavement with a skidding thump and it’s a good thing he’d worn a helmet or else he’d probably have a concussion right now if the ringing in his ears is any indication. He groans and sits up, frowns at the bloody cut on his leg through blurred vision. Where  _are_ his glasses? He feels around for them and discovers that the lenses are broken.

He hears someone yell and then there is the sound footsteps rushing towards him. Looking up, it takes a second for the two figures hovering above him to come into focus. Of all people, it’s Chanyeol he sees, accompanied by a boy he doesn’t recognize.

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol shouts, extending a hand out toward Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo takes it and sits up, hisses as a surge of pain pulses through his leg. “Are you okay?”

Kyungsoo gawks. Chanyeol’s hair is carefully styled to look disheveled and he’s dressed like the front man of a rock band, a Kiss band tee under his black leather jacket and matching black tight leather pants hugging him in all the right places. Kyungsoo realizes he’s wearing fucking eyeliner and  _dear lord._ Kyungsoo almost passes out from the sight. Or the loss of blood, he isn’t sure.

Chanyeol notices Kyungsoo’s leg and clasps his hands over his mouth in panic. “Shit, you’re bleeding. Fuck, I’m so,  _so_  sorry. I’m calling the ambulance.”

 “It’s nothing, really,” Kyungsoo sputters. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Can you stand at least?” Chanyeol throws Kyungsoo’s arm over his shoulder, assists Kyungsoo in rising to his feet with a hand at his waist to steady him. “Come inside. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to protest but Chanyeol refuses to take no for an answer and leads Kyungsoo inside.

 

Chanyeol’s house looks like something out of a fairy tale and Kyungsoo wonders how a place like this can even exist only a few blocks from his own. And as they ascend the spiraling staircase, Kyungsoo notes that Chanyeol’s house is quieter than his has ever been.

With Chanyeol’s help, Kyungsoo makes it up to his room in once piece and Chanyeol insists Kyungsoo recline on his bed, elevates Kyungsoo’s leg with a pillow (unnecessary). He hasn’t stopped apologizing even as he disinfects the cut and wraps it tightly. For the third time, Chanyeol fluffs the pillow bolstering Kyungsoo’s leg and Kyungsoo forgets to breathe as Chanyeol closes the distance between their bodies to brush a patch of dirt off of his shirt.

Chanyeol’s handsome friend brings him a hot cup of tea and Kyungsoo thanks him, traces the perimeter of his cup and fights off the intimidation creeping up his throat as Chanyeol and his friend stare at him like all his bones might break at any given moment.

“I can’t believe I almost fucking killed you with my motorcycle. I swear to God I refuse to do wheelies in the middle of the street for the sake of aesthetics ever again. This is Sehun by the way,” Chaneyol says, finally sitting down in his beanbag chair and Kyungsoo can breathe easy again.

Sehun, with his thick eyebrows, quiet presence, and fancy DSLR camera, flops down at a little station set up on Chanyeol’s desk. “Sorry about your leg,” he says. “We should have been more careful.”

“I was helping him out with an art project,” Chanyeol explains, unraveling a lollipop he seemingly conjures from thin air. “He asked me to model for him even though I modeled for him  _just_ a couple of days ago. I’m his best subject.”

Sehun laughs dryly. “I’m only here because I prefer your editing software and you’re rich. Your shiny cars and bikes and your huge-ass mansion always make for sweet props.”

Chaneyol chucks his lollipop wrapper at Sehun but it doesn’t make it even half way to him. “You love me.”

“I hate you and you’re a wad. But at least your makeup looks hot.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t agree more and as it seems, neither can Chanyeol, who strikes a few machismo poses in the bean-bag chair. Sehun chortles at him.

“Who did your makeup?” Kyungsoo interjects.

Chanyeol perks up. “My friend Zitao. He would have stayed to watch but he had to be somewhere. Dance club or something.”

Kyungsoo feels like sending Zitao a hand written thank you letter.

It turns out that Sehun is a junior, attends a public school a couple of towns over. It’s clear that photography is more than just a hobby for him and Kyungsoo admires the radiance dancing in Sehun’s eyes as he talks about his passion for the art form.  The air is light and the anxiety in Kyungsoo’s chest has begun to dissipate entirely while Sehun edits the pictures he’s taken and Chanyeol sparks up a conversation about the newest Radiohead album. Kyungsoo can’t repress the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips form listening to Chanyeol blather on about how phenomenal it was.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Self taught for about four years now,” Chanyeol says.  “You?”

“I know how to play a few chords but that’s it. I do play piano though. Classically trained, since I was four.”

“Four?!”

Sehun swivels around in his desk chair so fast he almost falls. “Wait,  _you’re_  the kid genius Chanyeol was telling me about?” he asks, disbelief glossing over his strong features.

Kyungsoo’s face ruddles. Chanyeol actually talks about him to his non-catholic school friends? “N-no, it’s nothing like that, I--”

“Yup!” Chanyeol smiles and Kyungsoo’s heart stutters for the millionth time that evening.

He watches Chanyeol shred through a few Metallica songs for several minutes until Sehun calls them over to him. They gather around and observe the finished products and Sehun shows off some of his other work. A pretty picture of Baekhyun catches Kyungsoo’s eye; he’s dressed in pastels, posing cutely under a romantic looking Sakura blossom tree, his smile blinding. Kyungsoo points it out and asks how they all met each other and before Sehun can go into the story, Baekhyun bursts into Chanyeol’s room, starling them all.

“What’s up, losers? The front door was open,” he singsongs, plopping himself down in Sehun’s lap. “You might wanna do something about that.”

Kyungsoo re-asks his question and Baekhyun narrates the story himself, grin on his face all the while, fingers massaging Sehun’s leg as he recounts the time he almost fist fought Sehun when he was thirteen. Kyungsoo doesn't know why watching Baekhyun and Sehun together feels so oddly intrusive.

 

Kyungsoo is stggered by the fact that someone like Chanyeol voluntarily wants to hang out with him outside of school, despite their age gap. Kyungsoo is glad to visit Chanyeol’s house to help him with Trigonometry homework and as they stroll past the kitchen, Kyungsoo sees Father Park out of his priest garb for the first time. It’s an intimidating sight to behold at first, but the older man greets Kyungsoo with warm welcoming smiles, even offers to prepare snacks. And every perception Kyungsoo had had of priests from the way they’re portrayed in movies is knocked away at once.

Chanyeol enjoys biking just as much as Kyungsoo (even though he owns cars) and shows him cool paths that Kyungsoo probably would have never discovered on his own.

The weather is in that irritating phase between August and September, fluctuating between either too hot or too cold too often for Kyungsoo’s liking. He’s worked up a sweat as he petals, the sleeves of his shirt bunched up gracelessly to his forearms. Chanyeol looks carefree in his Radiohead tee and ripped jeans but Kyungsoo really wishes that the older boy would quit swerving in front of him without warning and taking his feet off his petals whilst they descend hills. Chanyeol unhooks his fingers from around the handle bars to stretch his arms above his head and Kyungsoo curses as he almost crashes into him. He ignores the heat radiating up his neck when Chanyeol laughs at Kyungsoo and blithely comments that he didn’t think he was the type to use profanity.

The leaves have just begun to transform into shades of red, yellow and orange that decorate the sidewalks. Once they arrive at their destination, a vast patch of green surrounding a breathtakingly beautiful lake, Kyungsoo picks a red leaf out of Chanyeol’s hair but decides it looks pretty there, so he puts it back. They sit under a tree to gaze out at the lake and Kyungsoo carps at Chanyeol the moment he asks to take a selfie with him, gives his consent when he asks to post it to Instagram (it  _did_  come out well).

 

“Why don’t you have an Instagram?” Chanyeol questions. “Or a Facebook for that matter? I mean, who  _isn’t_  on Facebook?”

“I had one back in like, 2011. But I deleted it. I don’t like social media. It’s just so airy and vacant. People putting their lives on display for validation, trying to make others think that they’re happy so maybe they’ll start to forget the fact that they’re miserable. I hate that.”

Chanyeol just hums, pulls a pack of cigarettes along with a weed-patterned lighter from his back pocket. He takes a deep drag and says, “When you put it that way, I guess I kind of agree. But like, I can’t stop. For me, it’s like an addiction, like--”

“Like nicotine.”

“Like nicotine. Exactly.” Chanyeol looks at his phone and curses. “My phone’s at eleven percent. What about yours?”

“Ninety-two.”

“I wanna listen to music. You got Spotify on that thing?”

And of course Kyungsoo does. They swap usernames and Kyungsoo examines Chanyeol’s public playlists. He isn’t surprised that they all consist of rock music. “Don’t you listen to anything besides rock?”

“Nope.”

Kyungsoo too has a deep love for rock; it’s helped him persevere through plenty of dark times. He owes his soul to bands such as Nirvana, Alice In Chains and the like, but Chanyeol’s got rock music coursing through his veins, loud and unapologetic. It’s admirable but frankly, Kyungsoo thinks it’s about time Chanyeol expands his horizons.

“I’ve been really into R&B lately,” Kyungsoo comments, now scrolling through his own playlists. “Surely you can at least name  _some_  famous R&B singers.”

“I only know Chris Brown.”

“Chris Brown is trash. Here, let me show you the good stuff.”

Kyungsoo presses the shuffle button, is excited when the soft intro of  _Brown Skin_  by India.Arie caresses his ear drums. “This is India.Arie. She is a living legend. Even if you don’t like R&B, you have to at least know  _Ready For Love_.”

“I don’t,” Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo glares at him and Chanyeol cringes. “I’m sorry.”

“This is  _un_ acceptable.” Phone at full volume, Kyungsoo plays  _Ready For Love_  and swells with pride when Chanyeol closes his eyes once the chorus rolls around and melts into it, swaying along. The song ends too soon and Kyungsoo puts his playlist on pause. “Well?”

“It’s nice. I liked the chord progression. Her voice is hauntingly beautiful. The lyrics were simple but refreshing.”

Kyungsoo beams. “I _love_ that about her. Her music is rejuvenating, absolutely brimming with positivity and light, yet so much pain all at once. She doesn’t let it faze her, though. She’s the embodiment of resiliency and strength and honestly, I’d cut off my right arm for her.”

Chanyeol laughs.

Kyungsoo finds himself rambling and as he looks over, Chanyeol is staring at him in a way that makes Kyungsoo flush with embarrassment. No one should look that alluring with smoke in their eyes.

“You’re so insightful for your age,” Chanyeol comments. “Or maybe I was just dense as hell and extremely un-opinionated at fourteen, but--” He shrugs. “You should join my poetry club. I’m the head. It’d be fun.”

“I dunno. I’m not so productive in team environments. I’d be a shitty member.”

“Please?”

Kyungsoo puts a finger to his chin, thrusts his gaze up to the darkening sky in deliberation. “Teach me guitar. I want to learn how to play properly.”

“Okay, so you’ll join my club if I listen to your R&B and teach you how to shred? It’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

 

Chanyeol is the easiest friend Kyungsoo has ever made; for that he is grateful because without him, Kyungsoo would still, in all probability, be eating lunch alone. Chanyeol has hoards of friends. Too many, almost. Besides Chanyeol, Kyungsoo has none. Making friends is a foreign concept to Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo is flabbergasted by how effortless Chanyeol makes it seem. How the hell does he even manage to keep up with so many people?

Kyungsoo has always preferred to stay to himself; even as a small child, he spoke only when spoken to. Kids found him intimidating and they couldn't have been more wrong in thinking that.

His only friend in middle school was a beautiful girl named Irene who he had since broken off all form of contact with. She was a dazzling, free spirit, someone Kyungsoo never would have dreamed of becoming friends with if she hadn’t loudly introduced herself and insisted on sitting with him at lunch during the second week of sixth grade.

“Why on earth are you always alone?” she had grumbled at him tersely, shoving her nose into his shoulder to sniff him. Kyungsoo had looked at her like she was an intergalactic species. “You don’t smell. You aren’t ugly. So what’s your deal?”

“I…I don’t know.” And it was the truth.

Irene had clicked her tongue, pat Kyungsoo so hard on the back that he almost spat up his Mac ‘n cheese. “Well, from now on, I’m your bestie. You don’t get to argue with me!”

 

Jongdae, a loudmouthed freshman he had met during poetry club reminds Kyungsoo of Irene in every single way.

He had planted his little ass directly on top of Kyungsoo’s desk, and with Dorito dust he’d wiped off on his shirt getting everywhere, turned to him and said,

“Damn, quit undressing Chanyeol Park with your eyes, man, it’s making me want to gag, but not in the sexy way.”

He’d caught Kyungsoo off guard. Up until this moment, Kyungsoo thought he’d been doing a decent job at concealing his feelings but here Jongdae, a boy he’d just met, was, reading him like an open book.

“W-what are you talking about?” Kyungsoo had sputtered. He regretted having to rip his eyes off of Chanyeol, who was talking to the group at the front of the class, his blazer tossed over his shoulder and his tie loosened. His hair was getting too long and was in need of a dye-job, black roots peeking out, and  _god_  did he look hot.

“You  _like_  him, don’t you?” Jongdae had teased in a childish tone of voice. He had huddled close like they were sharing a kindergarten secret and as he inspected Kyungsoo’s face, there was a devilish curl to his lips that filled Kyungsoo with unease. This was so much more than some playground gossip, though. Kyungsoo did not need this rumor spread and he did  _not_  need it reaching Chanyeol. Not when he wasn’t even one hundred percent certain of what  _it_  was himself. “You do! You totally do! Shit, I was just kidding at first, but seeing your reaction makes it  _so_  obvious, oh my  _god_. I won’t tell, if and only if you buy me lunch for the next week.”

“Screw you.”

“Okay, guess your secret’s out, then.” And with that Jongdae had skipped away.

Once club activities had concluded for the evening, Kyungsoo had agreed to Jongdae’s conditions. Anything to keep him quiet. But the next day, while they stand in line for lunch, it’s Jongdae who pays for the both of them. Kyungsoo is pleased to discover Jongdae had only blackmailed him as a joke, not because of any actual ill will or homophobic tendencies. It seemed that the other boy had just genuinely wanted to start hanging out with Kyungsoo (and to bum off his English notes. Kyungsoo doesn’t mind either. But he  _does_  think Jongdae is a little shit nevertheless).

 

His face obscured by his locker to remain unobvious, Kyungsoo observes Chanyeol laughing with a friend Kyungsoo doesn’t recognize when Jongdae emerges out of nowhere.

“How’s your big gay crush? Did ya’ll fuck yet?” Jongdae asks.

Kyungsoo chokes on air and all but loses a finger as he closes his locker. He coughs into his hand, a bit exaggeratedly. “You're crude," he says. "And will you _please_ quit acting like it’s such a big deal? This sort of thing happens all the time here, right? I mean, it’s an all-boys school.”

“Yeah, but you’re lusting over the  _Priest’s son_. How ballsy. Too bad it’s all in vain, though. Chanyeol Park is straighter than Jesus.”

“Bad comparison. Jesus kissed boys.”

“ _A_  boy. Jesus was a one man’s man.”

Kyungsoo leans against his locker with a sigh. “What makes you think Chanyeol isn’t into guys?”

“Bro, have you  _seen_  him? No offense but I can’t picture him taking dick.” Kyungsoo whacks Jongdae on the arm. “And I mean, yeah, he’s artsy as hell and word on the street is he gets about ten confessions a month from the guys at this school alone. But no one’s ever seen him reciprocate any of them. And he never checks out boys in the locker room at gym like his friend Baekhyun does. He gets three times as many from the all-girls school on the other side of town but he’s banged at least eighty percent of them. From what I’ve heard, at least.”

Kyungsoo hits him again but it’s just an attempt to hide the fact that jealousy had just overcome him like a fucking tidal wave. “Are you sure  _you_ don’t have a crush on him? You seem to be awfully interested in his sex life.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Lover Boy, but unfortunately, I’m not into dick. I dig chicks but chicks don’t dig me. I feel like I’m probably gay in an alternate universe, though. I definitely have the cheek bones and fashion sense for it.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at Jongdae’s ignorance and Jongdae nudges him, tells him his sense of humor sucks.

“Besides, Chaneyol and I have a friend in common,” Jongdae says. “My brother, Jongin. But this is exactly why you need friends like  _me_. Keep you up on all the hot gossip, at least where Chaneyol Park is concerned. Because you love him.”

“We’re not friends, I don’t love him and it’s the way you talk. That’s why _chicks_ don’t “dig” you. So talk less, or not at all. Preferably the latter.” He walks away, blocking out Jongdae’s whining.

“Ah, you’re so _mean_!”

 

Kyungsoo had never given his sexuality much thought. He’d never really needed to until now. According to the bible (of which he hadn’t even managed to read past the first few chapters), gays were all going to hell, but he didn’t believe in that stuff anyway. It all seemed like a twisted fable to him; he can’t wrap his mind around why anyone would devote themselves to something that could turn out to be a lie in the end. But it was hard to get out of his mind when the doctrines of Catholicism were being drilled into his head on a daily basis in bible class. He couldn’t shake the sense of contrition that ate away at him, that he’d been  _taught_ to feel in the past few months.

His mother isn’t religious either, just bigoted. She wrinkles up her nose every time a gay person pollutes her television screen, which she feels is far too often these days, way more often than when she was growing up. The gay agenda, she calls it. His step dad doesn’t seem to care, but doesn’t debate with her on the subject.

Kyungsoo thought he might have felt something for Irene at one point. She was pretty, ideal even, so why shouldn’t he have? She didn’t feel as nice as he’d imagined when he’d brushed his fingers through her silky hair, didn’t feel fireworks as he pressed his lips against hers because she’d insisted on giving Kyungsoo the experience.

He hadn’t felt anything at all.

Much unlike the way he feels when Chanyeol smiles at him. He’s never felt so deeply for anyone, a shaken bottle of soda fizzing angrily to explode. It’s perplexing and Kyungsoo is circumspect, would rather avoid the headache that he gets thinking about it.

 

Jongdae’s brother Jongin is the opposite of him; popular, tall, quarterback of the school’s football team and most importantly, he knows when to shut his gob. Jongin’s not in Chanyeol’s direct friend circle, but Kyungsoo has seen them interacting in between classes and the more Kyungsoo looks at Jongin, the more he’s convinced that he’s almost too handsome to be a person. And if he hadn’t already been harboring a crush on Chanyeol, Kyungsoo thinks he would be  _enraptured by_ Jongin.

He and Jongdae are close, though they tease each other every chance they get, Jongdae the Tom to Jongin’s Jerry.  Their relationship is quite endearing and observing the two of them when he goes to Jongdae’s house to study makes Kyungsoo wish he had siblings.

Jongdae invites Kyungsoo to one of Jongin’s football games and despite the fact that he hates the sport, he tags along because in spite of the way they bicker, he enjoys Jongdae’s company.

Jongin is a god on the field. He looks like he was born for this and for a few minutes, it’s captivating, exciting even, but then Kyungsoo is thinking about that project he needs to start and the chores he needs to do when he gets home and before he knows it, his eyelids are heavy. He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until Jongdae shakes him awake.  

“Ew, gross dude,” Kyungsoo faintly hears Jongdae whine over the cheering crowd.  “You’re drooling on my shoulder.” Kyungsoo hits Jongdae in the leg for waking him. He turns to see Chanyeol seated next to him, grinning and he almost slides through the hole in the bleachers and breaks his neck.

“Hey,” Chanyeol greets. He’s wearing an uncharacteristic, oversized pink jumper and his hair is slightly curled, his fringe pulled back into a little bun at the top of his head and Kyungsoo wants to kiss the breath out of him. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you hated sports?”

Straightening, Kyungsoo wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “Y-yeah,” he croaks. “Jongdae dragged me here.”

“Cool. Well, come meet me by the water fountain after the game and I’ll give you a ride home, ok? Enjoy the rest of it!”

Kyungsoo nods and watches Chanyeol walk back over to rejoin Baekhyun, Minseok and Yixing.

He turns his head to look at Jongdae who’s giving him this  _stare_  that makes Kyungsoo smack him in the leg again, twice as hard as last time.

“Ow! What was that for? I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to. I could feel you gawking the whole time. Try some subtlety.”

“I couldn’t help it! You two have amazing chemistry. You guys  _need_  to bone. I ship ya’ll.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what ship means in this context but he kind of wants to ship Jongdae’s sarcastic ass to Antartica without a return address.

 

Kyungsoo thinks he agrees too hastily when Chanyeol asks him if he wants to chill with him and his friends at a café out of town. It’s a little place with a hipster vibe, folded away from the bustle, and becomes their go-to hangout spot and it boggles Kyungsoo’s mind that he’s apart of such a cool senior circle.

It’s all fun and games until Kyungsoo discovers that Chanyeol has a crush on one of the most stunning girls he’s ever seen, Seulgi, a junior at St. Elizabeth’s, their sister all-girls school. She works at the café as a barista and tonight, her winged eyeliner looks sharp enough to cut a man and her lips are painted red, her hair tied up in a messy bun and her uniform shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Your wife looks good as  _hell_  tonight,” Minseok comments after Seulgi serves them their drinks and they congregate at a booth. Chanyeol shoots a death glare at Minseok and Minseok gives him a gummy, cheeky flash of his teeth. Yixing chimes in, sighing Seulgi’s name, makes a noise like he’s orgasming to rile Chanyeol up further, Minseok’s uncontrolled cackling his encouragement.

Chanyeol looks ready to throttle them both. “Would you two cretins shut the hell up?”

Yixing chortles and high fives Minseok in victory.

Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol watch Seulgi. “Seriously. Don’t talk about my wife like that. But you’re right. She always looks so hot, you guys. It’s…intimidating.”

Baekhyun scoffs and leans further into Sehun’s side. “Is that why you still haven’t asked her out after nearly two weeks of stalking her at work? Because you’re a lil’ bitch?”

“ _Because_  I’m a gentleman, dammit,” Chanyeol grumbles like he’s trying to prove it to himself more than to his friend.

“Is that what all the kids are calling the Art of Manhoe-ing these days?” Yixing asks.

Chanyeol ignores the comment. “ _Anyway_ , I don’t wanna come on too strong. Tonight’s the night, though. Before we leave, I’m definitely getting her number.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t participate much in the conversation that evening, can’t control his sulking. Sehun is the only one who notices his behavior; he lends him a soft smile as Kyungsoo looks up from where his eyes were cast down at his lap and catches Sehun looking at him.

Chanyeol is inattentive, too preoccupied with gathering his nerves to notice Kyungsoo’s dejection and Kyungsoo hates that he selfishly  _needs_  him to notice.

“Alright, wish me luck,” Chanyeol says, bouncing on his feet as he makes his way out of the booth.

While the other boys slap him on the ass and watch him make his way over to Seulgi, Kyungsoo’s got his eyes trained on the steam rising from his second cup of coffee. He can’t help but glance up every now and again, only to tear his eyes away like he’s watching a horror movie every time Chanyeol smoothly touches Seulgi’s hand or when she laughs and gives him a playful slap on the arm. She eventually writes something that seems longer than just a name and order on his cup and Chanyeol’s eyes light up brighter than Kyungsoo’s ever seen.

Everyone at the table save for Kyungsoo whoops once Chanyeol struts back over to their table, turns into a giddy schoolgirl as he shows off the number written on his cup.

Kyungsoo feels sick.

 

Even though he’d seen it coming, it still knocks Kyungsoo on his ass.

“I asked Seulgi to be my girlfriend and she said yes. It’s official," Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo, grin like mortar on his face. He looks young and effervescent, born anew, brimming with something Kyungsoo’s never seen in him before. Kyungsoo doesn’t meet his eyes as he congratulates him. He wants to kick himself because he should be happy for his friend.

He isn’t.

 

Envy. The tang of spoilt school milk and the burn of anxiety-induced vomit after lunch. The feeling of working his ass off all semester just to be slapped in the face with the fact that he’d ranked second in his class when he’d aimed for first. It’s what had sweltered low in Kyungsoo’s stomach when Irene had neglected him last year in favor of spending time with her first serious boyfriend. But never had he experienced envy quite like this, so raw and throbbing and wholly consuming.

He doesn’t like feeling this way, self conscious about his acne or the way in which his facial hair grows in splotchy patches. He hates himself every time he has to triple check the mirror or his front facing camera to make sure his hair is perfectly swept because he wants to look good for a boy who will never be interested in seeing him as anything more than a friend.

He hates himself even more for crying about it.

 

The first time Chanyeol brings Seulgi around Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo thinks that, seeing her up close and personal like this, she isn’t even really all that pretty. He’s delusional. Lying to himself to protect his own feelings. It doesn’t work. She’s striking, from the top of her head to the tips of her dainty feet, gorgeous even when she’s not wearing makeup (she doesn’t need it), or when her face crinkles up in a way that should be unattractive as she laughs at a dumb joke Chanyeol has just finished telling. She compliments him perfectly with her slim fingers laced in his large ones and her sweet voice overpowering his with her confidence and wit. She is exquisiteness. She is someone to be sought after. She is everything Kyungsoo is not.

Kyungsoo wants to hate her. He couldn’t even if he believed there was a God that he could entreat to help him do so.

 

Sorrow is Kyungsoo’s oldest friend. The scent of rainwater clinging to the flavor of salt and lonesomeness. He can’t recollect the exact moment it had crept up on him, doesn’t remember inviting it, just that it hung around ever since. A not so distant pall that pursues him everywhere he goes, thrashing volatile storms that drench him to the bone, seep into his blood.

He doesn’t try to evade the storms anymore.

He welcomes them.

 

He tries praying about it on his own. It’s the first time he’s prayed outside of school and he feels bizarre as he prostrates himself on heavy knees at the side of his bed. He doesn’t get very far, just ends up realizing how feeble and  _brainless_  he feels. If the devil owns his soul or whatnot, then, well.

 

He most likely deserves it.

 

Chanyeol breaks up with Seulgi exactly two and a half months later on Kyungsoo’s fifteenth birthday. The split is amicable and they remain friends. Kyungsoo feels guilty for thinking it’s the best birthday gift he’s ever received. But Chanyeol doesn’t look depressed when he invites everyone out to celebrate that night after school and offers to treat Kyungsoo to dinner and dessert. It’s the first birthday Kyungsoo isn’t spending alone or with his family and he’s overwhelmed with the amount of gifts that aren’t school related supplies or socks and long underwear from his grandparents. To the best of his ability, Kyungsoo ignores Jongdae’s waggling eyebrows as Chanyeol envelopes him in a bear hug after Kyungsoo opens his gift, a too expensive watch, a blue tooth speaker and an acoustic guitar. Instead he focuses on the way Chanyeol holds him tight and looks at him with soft eyes. It has Kyungsoo smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time. Something hits him then, hard but shallow like an expanding crack in a frozen over lake. And he gets it.  

He  _needs_ to let Chanyeol know how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so dramatic i'm Sorry


	2. Disintegration Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kyungsoo's confession doesn't go quite as planned. Also, sex happens.

The next weekend, Chanyeol drives Kyungsoo to a vintage record shop downtown that he couldn’t stop raving about and when they arrive, Chanyeol looks like a kid in a candy store. His giddiness is infectious and Kyungsoo feels bursting with it. Chanyeol is cradling his favorite Def Leopard albums in his arms like they're his babies and as Kyungsoo spots a record he thinks Chanyeol has never heard of before and goes to pick it up, their hands brush.

“Wait, you know this band?” Kyungsoo asks, grin so wide the corners of his mouth start to tingle.

“Bro," Chanyeol says, giving Kyungsoo's fingers a squeeze. "I  _love_  Circa Survive. I didn’t think you’d be interested in them because they’re a little bit indie as far as your tastes seem concerned.”

It’s like a page ripped straight out of the shoujo mangas Jongdae’s always acting like he doesn’t read and Kyungsoo wants to stand on his tippy toes and fasten his lips to Chanyeol’s. He could get away with doing so; the place is relatively empty, save for two other customers wandering about several feet away from them. He could shout his confession at the top of his lungs and no one would be bothered. So why do the words get stuck in the back of his throat? He suddenly feels like he’s under the heat of a thousand stage lights as Chanyeol looks down at him and he's sweating bullets. The room starts to spin. And before he knows what’s hit him, his vision goes black.

 

Kyungsoo had never gotten the flu until now. Growing up, he was the epitome of physical wellness and prided himself on taking his vitamins and maintaining a rather healthy diet but looking back, it was probably because he never left his room. Is this what he had to compromise in exchange for having friends? His health? Going out almost every weekend may have been throwing his vitamin regimen off, and though he feels like shit, satisfaction still swells raucously in his chest for some reason.

He’s absent from school for two full days and he can  _feel_  all the class time he’s missed yanking his grade point average down. With several reminders in the form of angry texts from Kyungsoo, Jongdae e-mails him his notes. Chanyeol and Baekhyun also pop over to check up on him after school (Baekhyun even made him soup and Kyungsoo thinks being sick isn’t that bad when you have friends).

 

Being bed ridden, though, feels like a prison sentence instead of liberation like it used to, and boredom entices Kyungsoo to maunder into weird corners of the internet. After that comes the cyber stalking which he would be against if he hadn’t so much time on his hands. He discovers that Baekhyun’s relationship status is listed as “it’s complicated” on Facebook and that Seulgi is in a happy new relationship with a guy who isn’t as attractive as Chanyeol. He dreads delving into Chanyeol’s social media pages, only because of all the things Jongdae had put into his head so far, and  _holy shit_  he has nearly five thousand followers on Instagram. Most of them are hot girls that he’s following back and Kyungsoo chokes back jealousy as he skims through the thousands of comments underneath Chanyeol’s posts.

Exasperated, he closes the tab and heads over to Chanyeol’s Facebook page which is more innocuous. There’s information about a bible study skiing trip that’s to occur over the weekend. It’s posted by Joy, a cute girl Chanyeol is mutual friends with and Kyungsoo snoops further, discovers Chanyeol has agreed on attending the trip.

Kyungsoo _needs_ to be there, too.

 

The skiing trip is first thing Kyungsoo mentions to Jongdae once he returns back to school that Thursday.

“Oh, _that_. It’s some sort of weird sex thing,” Jongdae informs him.

Kyungsoo can never tell if Jongdae is being serious or not. “What?”

“Yeah, according to Jongin, it’s this yearly thing that’s disguised as a bible study group slash bonding time for the students or whatever to throw off parents, teachers and the clergy but everyone else knows kids go there to get laid. Jongin has been talking endlessly about it since he started senior year.”

Kyungsoo’s mind is reeling. “Ask him to get us an invite,  _please_.”

 “What? Absolutely  _not_. It’s a senior thing, anyway. I doubt we’ll be welcome. Wait, why do you want to go so badly? Are you trying to get your cherry popped by Chanyeol?”

Kyungsoo kicks at Jongdae’s ankle but Jongdae dodges it.

Jongdae cackles. “You are, aren’t you? Kyungsoo Do, you are an open boo--”

This time, Kyungsoo throws a punch at his ribs and he doesn’t miss.

 

“Absolutely  _not_ ,” Jongin tells them. Kyungsoo had followed Jongdae home after school and cajoled him with promises of doing his homework for two days, into asking Jongin about the trip. They’re sitting on Jongin’s floor as he tidies up his room and Kyungsoo can’t stop staring at the way Jongin’s sweatpants hang low on his hipbones because  _wow_.

 “Oh, c’mon, Jonginnie,” Jongdae whines. “Don’t be like that.”

“Why, are you trying to get laid? I’m gonna tell mom.”

“Then you’d be exposing yourself, idiot.”

Jongin’s mouth tightens and then goes slack after a long moment of deep pondering, and now Kyungsoo sees why Jongdae insists his brother is not the sharpest tool in the shed. At least he’s pretty.

“You’re lucky I haven’t told her myself.”

“Threaten me all you want, it’s not happening. No offense to you, Kyungsoo, but I’m not babysitting a pair of frosh while I’m supposed to be getting my rocks off.”

Kyungsoo is going to regret this later. “We’ll pay for you to get into the lodge,” he tells Jongin. “And for all your food and extra expenses.”

Jongdae is gawking at him. “’ _We_ ’?”

Slowly, Jongin’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “Deal.”

 

Going out in frigid weather when he just got over the flu isn’t the smartest decision Kyungsoo has ever made. He figures the consequences are worth it once they reach the lodge and he sees Chanyeol, all bundled up and rosy cheeked, ears poking out of his beanie and hair, now neck-length, flipping out from underneath it. Kyungsoo’s cheeks heat up at the sight despite the cold.

Chanyeol is delighted to see Kyungsoo, but Jongin declares that his brother and Kyungsoo are a burden.

 “Sorry about this,” Jongin apologizes to the girl who planned this whole thing, Joy, gesturing to Jongdae and Kyungsoo. “My mom made me bring them along.”

“It’s fine,” Joy says and her voice matches her kind, pretty face. “Welcome!”

Skiing is the one sport Kyungsoo actually relishes. Jongdae, not so much.

He looks like a cat refusing to bathe as he stands at the top of the slope, anxiety painting his features pallid and Kyungsoo has never seen him this muted, hadn’t even thought it was possible until now.

“Are you pissing yourself right now?” Kyungsoo asks, trying to seem concerned but he fails to conceal the amusement in his tone.

“N-no, fuck you,” Jongdae spits back. His legs are quivering.

“You can’t chicken out now,” Kyungsoo ushers. “Hot seniors are watching. If you don’t ski down this hill with me, you’ll  _never_  have a chance at getting pussy this weekend.”

It’s incentive enough to get Jongdae looking down the slope with more determination than fear and he does a breathing exercise to key himself up. On Kyungsoo’s leisurely count to three, they both go for it with Jongdae shouting, “For the pussy!” as they make their descent.

 

After bible study, Kyungsoo follows Chanyeol to Jongin’s room where he’s dealing out alcohol like it’s Prohibition, snapback sitting low over his eyes. He and Chanyeol make light conversation for a bit, before they’re interrupted by a few plastered, squealing girls. Kyungsoo doesn’t fail to notice the way Chanyeol leers at their asses.

Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo to accompany him back to his room, and he barely gets half a beer in versus Chanyeol’s two but he isn't ashamed that he’s already feeling this liberated. He’s impartial to the taste of alcohol (he'll never understand why some people exalt it so highly).

He’s racking his brain over why the hell there are no nutrition facts listed anywhere on the beer bottle when Chanyeol digs him from his thoughts.

“You seem sad,” he notes. “Like pensive and quiet, more so than usual. You  _are_  feeling better, right?”

Kyungsoo nods. “Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

“About what?”

“It’s so wild to me that this is essentially a sex resort.”

Chaneyol raises and eyebrow at him over his beer bottle, like he hasn’t the slightest indication of what Kyungsoo is talking about. Kyungsoo doesn’t know why he feels like a spouse who’s just caught their husband cheating, red-handed.

Kyungsoo clarifies. “I saw couples sneaking in and out of rooms and there’s talk about this whole bible study camp being a weird sex thing.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You guess?” Kyungsoo parrots, and the beer’s got him feeling sassier than ever. “ _Come on_ , now.”

Chanyeol chuckles. “I think guys get so excited about it because some of the more prudish girls who don’t usually party and aren’t into this sort of thing are likely to experiment here because it looks so innocent to parents. Some of those church girls are the freakiest ones. All hail Mary in the streets, but wicked as hell in the sheets. Guys piss their pants over the idea of a girl like that.”

“That’s what you’re into, too, I take it?”

“Hey, I’ve been a saint all night.” Kyungsoo gives him a look. “O _kay_ , okay. So I fingered a girl in the ski tram earlier on the way back down here. Sue me.”

Shock reddens Kyungsoo’s cheeks. “No way,” he manages to breathe, echoing Chanyeol’s cheeky grin. The image is hotter than he’d wanted it to be and the envy sizzling low in his stomach grapples with something else, something darker.  Was it Joy?

“What type of girls are  _you_  into?”

The question stumps Kyungsoo. He averts his eyes and suddenly his beer bottle is the most interesting looking thing he's ever seen. Silence drapes itself around them and squeezes and Kyungsoo fiddles with the sticker on his bottle. “I don’t have a type.” He states simply, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes again. It isn’t a lie. Not completely.

“Ah, me neither. It’s more about the person’s aura, in my opinion. When you’re drawn to someone, it’s undeniable no matter what. Inevitable.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t agree more but still, he’s curious. “So, how did you do it? Like you just pulled her pants down right then and there? What did she do?”

“ _She_  came on to  _me_. She was wearing one of her uniform skirts, pretty little white stockings too thin for this weather underneath.” And Kyungsoo’s suspicions were correct.  _Joy._  “I ripped them.”

“Dude.”

Their shoulders are pressed together and despite their combined body heat, Kyungsoo shivers when Chanyeol turns to him, runs his tongue over his bottom lip and continues. “See, I pushed her panties aside and teased her for a little while. She was a total  _mess_ before I even got a finger in there. Poor girl was  _drenched_. The windows got all fogged up, I’m sure people knew what was going down. Shame I didn’t have enough time to go down on her, because I  _would_  have. It was hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are locked with his. He’s _so_ close. Liquid courage has Kyungsoo eliminating the distance between them to glue his lips to Chanyeol’s. He realizes he’s made a mistake as Chanyeol recoils after a beat and gapes at him like he’s just admitted to being a Trump supporter.

“S-sorry,” Kyungsoo stutters. His heart is beating a mile a minute and flight takes over his body. Frantic, he moves to stand up but his hands are shaking and he spills the remaining beer directly into his lap, yelling a string of curses. What a disaster.

Unexpectedly, he’s being grabbed by the wrist and grappled to the bed and  _what the hell_? Chanyeol slots his body in between Kyungsoo’s spread legs and hovers there as Kyungsoo gapes up at him, paralyzed.

Chanyeol’s looking down at him with eyes laden with impious intent. He goes to undo Kyungsoo’s belt buckle but stops himself halfway. “Can I take these off?”

Kyungsoo nods before the question is even over.

Chanyeol chuckles, removes Kyungsoo’s belt in one swift motion and pulls Kyungsoo’s pants down to the ankle with assistance from Kyungsoo’s awkward shimmying. He’s smiling as his eyes linger over the expanse of Kyungsoo’s exposed thighs, inching closer until there’s barely space between them, gaze locking with Kyungsoo’s. It takes all Kyungsoo has to hold that gaze, feels like he might miss something if he even blinks.

“You’re cute,” Chanyeol tells him in a husky voice and Kyungsoo’s chest mottles with gratification. Blood surges through his head, eagerness diluting panic. Eyes now flitting from Kyungsoo’s gaze to his mouth, Chaneyol traces the outline of his lips delicately with the tips of his fingers, then runs his hand through Kyungsoo’s fringe, holds it back with his hand so it’s off of his forehead. He laughs when Kyungsoo exhales an anxious breath against his face.

“Too cute.”

Kyungsoo is sure he blacks out for an instant from how hard his heart thunders against his chest as Chanyeol kisses him. It’s different from the first, languorously soft and adoring yet passionate, and even with his eyes screwed shut, the room is spinning. Forcing his body to relax, Kyungsoo lets Chanyeol lead, becomes pliant underneath him, sighs as Chanyeol breaks away to study his features then dips back in to bite and pull at his lower lip.

Kyungsoo doesn’t have much to compare it to; doesn’t know exactly how to react when Chanyeol coaxes his lips open to lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue, rocking his hips gently against Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo keens from the friction; the sensation is incredible and Kyungsoo seeks it again, chases the taste of wonder on Chanyeol’s tongue.

Chanyeol moves to lap and nip at the taste of sweat on Kyungsoo’s neck as Kyungsoo continues to rub himself against him. Chanyeol bites at his neck hard and after that, Kyungsoo comes embarrassingly fast, shivers through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Chanyeol allays the pain, tongue softly playing over Kyungsoo's skin, and Kyungsoo can’t be mad at himself for coming so prematurely because this is the first time he’s been kissed like that.

They lie there in stillness, Kyungsoo staring up at the ceiling unseeing as he catches his breath, Chanyeol’s arm thrown over his waist. His heart rate is still higher than normal and his boxers are a mess, but Kyungsoo feels like he’s floating, light as a feather and he giggles, softly at first, till his voice crescendos into crazed sounding laughter.

Chanyeol is laughing too.

 

The next morning, Kyungsoo wakes up a new man in his and Jondae’s shared room (he’d felt so mischievous sneaking in at a little past twelve when he’d left Chanyeol’s room) and after showering quickly, he sifts through Jongdae’s makeup bag, taking calculated care not to wake the other boy. He does his best to conceal the hickie on his neck, now even more apparent and blooming into ugly shades of purple and blue. He curses as he dabs the thick substance on his skin because this is definitely not his color. But it’ll do well enough.

 

“Ew, what’s that on your collar?” Jongdae and Kyungsoo are eating lunch after skiing with a group of Jongin’s friends (not _with_ exactly, more like next to. Jongin had demanded that they sit a few tables down and out of direct line of vision). Kyungsoo had self consciously popped the collar of his flannel up to cover his neck, but it had been of more harm than help, and smeared Kyungsoo’s makeup without him realizing it.

“Are you wearing make up?” Jongdae asks. He tries to take a closer look but Kyungsoo covers up his neck with his hand. Jongdae pries his arms away after a few moments of tussling and Kyungsoo looks down at his palm and curses. He’s wiped even more of the foundation off.

“Do you have eczema or something?”

“What?” Kyungsoo peeps, playing dumb. He avoids Jongdae’s eyes.

“That splotchy patch on your neck looks a lot like the kind I would get as a kid and-- _holy fuck_!”

“Pipe down, you velociraptor.”

“It’s a hickie, isn’t it?” He pokes at Kyungsoo’s sensitive skin and Kyungsoo hisses. Jongdae barks. “Kyungsoo Do! What the heck? What poor girl did you pay to give you that?”

Kyungsoo scoffs. “You couldn’t pay  _me_  to let a girl do this.” The fact that he said that aloud stuns him for a second and wow, he’s gay as hell.

“It was a guy? Did you actually hook up with someone?!”

Kyungsoo responds with silence.

“Well? Who was it?”

“...Chanyeol.”

“Shut up,” Jongdae laughs. “Stop lying. Chanyeol Park doesn’t give dudes hickies.”

“He obviously _does_ ,” Kyungsoo says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, spill. How did this even happen?”

“He was talking about the girl he fingered and then his mouth was on my mouth.”

Jongdae blinks like a torrential gust of wind has just blown into his eyes. “That sounds fake, but okay. Then?”

Kyungsoo shrugs as if it’s not a big deal though his heart feels like it may explode at any given moment. “Then he gave me the hickie.”

“That’s it?”

“I…I came in my pants somewhere in between.” Kyungsoo is miles less proud to reveal that tidbit.

Jongdae makes a sound of utter disgust. “ _You_ got off with someone. Before me. Not only is that unfair, but it's unb _eliev_ able!”

 

Kyungsoo has never been preoccupied with lust. His crushes, more often than not, last no longer than about a week. He has no relish for porn; if he’s horny he finds it more productive to just close his eyes, focus on the feeling, rub one out and go on his way. He would like to think he’s been too focused on excelling in school to have time to think about sex, but it’s more probable that it’s because he’s never done anything with anyone and had zero inclination to it, no idea of what it was like. But now, that’s changed.

Call it a sexual awakening, but it’s cumbersome instead of liberating because all Kyungsoo can dwell on is the way Chanyeol had kissed him, how his hands felt on him, his dumb voice and how  _thick_  his dick had felt in comparison to his own and what else might be instore if Chanyeol would just acknowledge him in that way again.

Maybe he’s too eager, maybe he’s rushing things, but three days have dragged by and Chanyeol is acting like nothing ever happened and it's driving Kyungsoo mad.  Kyungsoo is almost certain Chanyeol feels something for him, too. He _has_ to. Or else why would he have kissed him the way he did? Was it just to get him off his back? To entertain his pitiable, obvious little crush?

Kyungsoo tests the waters, dips his toe in by amping up the skinship. Chanyeol is a touchy guy by nature; he’s like that with all his friends but as Kyungsoo skates his hand up his leg whilst Chanyeol is teaching him new chords on the guitar, fingers lingering on his upper thigh, Chanyeol doesn’t even seem to think twice about it.

Kyungsoo is crazy. He  _must_ be. His moves have become extra calculated and he’s turning into a paranoid-obsessive mess.

After school on a foggy Friday, he meets up with Chanyeol to go see a new super hero movie with Sehun and Baekhyun. Kyungsoo tries to push the idea that this outing feels weirdly like a double date out of his head as best he can, but as Chanyeol pulls him into a hug when he greets him at the door, Kyungsoo, reeking of cologne and notes of anxiety, is overwhelmed by the urge to kiss Chanyeol’s neck and actually goes through with it. He immediately wants to retract his decision and as they pull apart, Chanyeol just cocks an eyebrow at him and pinches his cheek, proceeds to talk about what kind of candy they should share when they get to the theater.

He’s _got_ to be imagining the way Chanyeol’s hands linger on his arm, fingers kindling firestorms on his skin as the lights dim and the movie begins. The way he holds him closer than usual is all in Kyungsoo's head.

Chanyeol whispers in his ear about how stupid the movie is and he probably hadn’t meant to brush his lips against Kyungsoo’s earlobe, send shivers down his spine in a way that makes Kyungsoo hope Chanyeol will ask him to get out of there so they can go somewhere to be alone. He never does.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know why he expects Chanyeol to kiss him at his front door in some grand, cliché romcom gesture.

All Chanyeol does is playfully pat Kyungsoo’s ass at the bottom of the steps and watches him walk inside.

 

Sehun had asked Kyungsoo to be his model for another upcoming project, just simple shots in the park, and Kyungsoo happily obliged, even offered to treat Sehun to lunch afterwards.

In preparation for the shoot, Sehun takes Kyungsoo to meet his friend Zitao, a tall and stoic senior who does his hair and makeup quicker than Kyungsoo had expected. And once he’s done and permits Kyungsoo to see the finished product in a mirror, Kyungsoo barely recognizes himself under the thick layers of hair mousse, eyeliner and contouring.

They arrive to the park and Kyungsoo is extra self-conscious because of all the people buzzing around despite the subzero-feeling weather. There’s a frozen water fountain in the center of the park that Sehun wants him to pose in front of and Kyungsoo is dressed too thinly for this, in only a t-shirt and jeans; he’s shivering, bumbling about at first. He's never done anything like this before. He overanalyzes the poses Sehun instructs him through, so focused on what his body is doing that he forgets his face. He could never do this for a living. But Sehun is patient with him, guides him through it with a smile, and they finish up in no time.

Kyungsoo helps Sehun pack up his equipment and they stroll to a nearby pizza place. Kyungsoo is thankful for the heat. They order more food than necessary for two people, fall into easy conversation and Kyungsoo becomes aware of the fact that he appreciates Sehun’s company. Sehun makes him feel at ease.

“So,” Kyungsoo says, dragging out the o, once their conversation drifts to a lull. “My friend likes this boy.”

Sehun looks at him with a bowed eyebrow.

“Thing is, he’s also a boy.”

Features brightening, Sehun bounces up and down in his chair, a bite of pasta stored in his cheek like a hamster. “Do I know him?”

A cold sweat forms at Kyungsoo’s hairline. “No. He’s a, uh, friend I reconnected with from elementary school.”

“Does this friend have a name?”

“Yeah, it’s…Minhyuk. It’s complicated because he’s not sure if this other boy is even really gay.”

Sehun looks incredulous. “Has he tried asking his crush that?”

“No. Isn’t flat out asking that kind of rude?”

“Not if he’s interested in this guy, no.”

Kyungsoo chews on his tongue, thoughts racing. “Well, he’s confused because the boy he likes kissed him but now he’s acting like he doesn’t even exist.”

“So the crush  _does_ like boys?”

“Maybe. But he’s also been with girls. A lot of girls. He’s known as a ladies’ man, not someone who kisses boys.”

Sehun cackles and claps his hands. “Oooh, juicy. What’s this guy like? Why does Minhyuk like him so much?”

“Well, he’s tall. And  _really_ good looking. Like, he’s boisterously silly, so much that it’s insufferable but when he smiles, it’s too dazzling, like the sun. And his presence demands everyone’s attention---” Kyungsoo is cut off by Sehun choking on a bite of pizza and looking at Kyungsoo in shock once he recovers. And _fuck_ , Kyungsoo has over-shared.

“You!” Sehun shouts, pointing a finger in Kyungsoo’s face. “Minhyuk is  _you_! You like Chanyeol! I knew it.”

Kyungsoo has sunk so low in his seat that he’s nearly on the floor. “Wait, you knew?”

“Yeah; you’re super obvious, dude. But that’s so cute. Ah, young love!”

Kyungsoo shushes him. He doesn’t know why he does it--no one they know is around.

Sehun's still laughing at him. “Dude. Stop freaking out. Chanyeol is into boys. He’s super fond of you and if he kissed you, you should go for it! What are you waiting for?”

 

Kyungsoo didn’t have an answer to Sehun’s question then, and he still doesn’t. What  _is_  he waiting for, exactly? What is he scared of? Maybe it’s the bone crushing depression that will inevitably be thrust upon him when he confesses to Chanyeol and the other boy lets him down cold. If Chanyeol rejected him it would, beyond doubt, ruin their friendship and Kyungsoo would die before he did that willingly. So, he keeps his mouth wired shut as affirmations of admiration threaten to gurgle up his throat and drown him.

He practices in the mirror, recites his confession until his mouth dries up. He looks like a fool. A fool who should just give up and be okay with keeping Chanyeol as a friend, even if that means never being able to kiss him again or hold him close or keep his smile all to himself, or--

No. With that he was  _not_  okay.

 

The sky has melded into whirling wisps of violet caressed by tones of orange and pink by the time Kyungsoo and Chanyeol trek through the woods and up to the hilly area about a mile away from Chanyeol’s house. It’s the prettiest sight he’s gotten the pleasure to behold in a while, and Kyungsoo snaps a few shots with his iphone, wishes Sehun were here with his DCLR to capture it all properly. Although the grass is a bit damp from a previous spell of rain, they end up sitting anyway, gazing up at the sky to watch the sunset. It’s almost dark when Chanyeol suggests they head home before it gets too late.

Scrunching up his face, Kyungsoo mocks him. “You sound like my mom. Next you’re gonna tell me to be in bed by ten.”

Chanyeol shushes Kyungsoo and shoves him. Kyungsoo throws up ninja jutsu signs with his hands and pretends to attack him with exaggerated, flailing moves that make Chanyeol chuckle heartily.

“You’re different,” Chanyeol says, eyes sparkling with affection. “Like, more bubbly and forthright than when I first met you. It suits you. I like it.”

Kyungsoo scoffs, lunging at Chanyeol. “Shut up.”

Kyungsoo manages to wrestle Chanyeol’s larger frame to the ground, and soon he traps the older boy in a merciless head lock.

“You think you can take me, punk?” Chanyeol grunts, red in the face, and Kyungsoo laughs because he’s quite confident for someone who is clearly struggling.

“Oh, I could take you,” Kyungsoo says, pinning Chanyeol to the ground. He climbs in his lap, straddling his thighs. “In more ways than one.”

"Maybe one day when you're closer to my height, Shorty," Chanyeol tells him through gritted teeth but Kyungsoo doesn't fail to notice the way the tips of his ears go red or the fact that his fucking bulge is pressing against his ass. Something sinister blooms deep within Kyungsoo’s gut, beguiles him to grind his ass against Chanyeol’s hard-on and Kyungsoo has never been this bold. He leans down, devours Chanyeol’s lips in ravenous kisses to which Chanyeol reciprocates hesitantly at first, but then it’s hot and heavy and Kyungsoo is dizzy with need, buzzing with adrenaline and  _shit_ , he forgot how good this felt.

His brain to mouth filter isn’t functioning at the moment. “I want you to fuck me,” Kyungsoo breathes against Chanyeol’s mouth and it shocks the both of them.

“No.” Chaneyol says, voice stern, pushing Kyungsoo off of him. He goes to stand, dusts the mud off of his pants. His forehead is lined with distaste. “Not a chance in hell. Nope.”

Anger sifts through Kyungsoo’s disillusionment. “Why the hell not? You can kiss me. You can take off my pants and let me rub my dick against your thigh while you give me hickies and just forget about it afterwards. So what’s the issue, here?”

“Listen. I’m sorry about that.”

“Why even do it, then?”

“It just happened, ok? I was tipsy. But we were both in the moment, yeah? It was a one-time thing. It shouldn’t have happened. Not that way.”

The way he’d worded it causes a range of emotions to race through Kyungsoo at once. He feels sliced wide open, he feels buoyant. He doesn’t know  _what_  he feels. He bites his lip so hard it starts to bleed, the tang of blood coating his tongue and overwhelming his senses. “So, you were just using me?”

“That’s not the case at all. You know I care about you. When I called you cute, I meant it.”

“Cute but not fuckable?”

Chanyeol looks like a kicked puppy. “What? No, it’s not that. You’re just so so  _so_  damn young. You’re a literal baby and I turn eighteen soon.”

Bullshit. “Your birthday isn’t until the end of the school year.”

“Even so, it isn’t right.”

“What’s another name added to your list?”

“ _Excuse_  me?”

Kyungsoo is shouting now. “I know you get around. I know it’s easy as hell to get dick from you, so again, what’s the issue here?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?”

“Huh? No.” Chanyeol looks down, runs a hand through his silver locks and Kyungsoo grits his teeth. He changes the subject. “Sehun told me you’re into dudes.”

Chanyeol laughs but it sounds aggrieved. His fingers tremble as he lights a cigarette and smoke is a frenetic flood from his nostrils. “I thought that was pretty damn obvious, considering.”

Kyungsoo mirrors his body language. “But…you’re into girls as well?”

“Does one plus one equal two?” Kyungsoo frowns and Chanyeol sucks at his teeth. “I’m bisexual, Kyungsoo. Contrary to popular belief, it’s a thing.”

“Okay. But are you interested in boys more? Or less?”

Chanyeol takes an extra long drag of his cigarette, coughs on the exhale. “It doesn’t really work like that.”

“Right. Have you been with guys before? Like, sexually.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“All the way?”

“Only two. The first guy was someone I barely knew from out of town but, um, the second was,” he trails off and his cheeks are rosy with discomfiture. “Jongin.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in disbelief. “No fucking way.”

Chanyeol’s smile returns, genuine this time around and the tenseness in the air dissipates. Chaneyol sits back down beside Kyungsoo. “I’m deadass. He fucked me at a party last year. But he was just experimenting, I think.” He takes another drag and then turns to look at Kyungsoo.  “What about you? You’re a virgin,  _obviously_. But are you gay?”

Chanyeol pinches Kyungsoo’s cheeks, teasing him for going bright red.

“Why is it “obviously”, you dick?” Kyungsoo growls, swatting his hand away.

“You just asked me to fuck you in a damn forest. What am I supposed to use as a condom, a leaf? Only virgins and dumbasses think that recklessly and I  _know_ you’re not a dumbass. No matter how you might look.”

Kyungsoo throws a punch at his shin, mortified but Chanyeol mitigates his discomfort with an arm around his shoulder. Kyungsoo melts into the touch head lolling to rest against Chanyeol’s chest. He listens to the steady beat of Chanyeol’s heart before speaking again. “To answer your question--yeah. I am. Gay.” Finally being able to say the words aloud lifts a weight off of Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

“Nice.” Chanyeol says and they soak in the calming murmur of the wind for a few minutes, Chaneyol rubbing circles into Kyungsoo’s arm all the while.

“Listen,” Chanyeol starts in a shaky voice, squeezing Kyungsoo’s arm tight. Kyungsoo sits up and looks at him. “I don’t  _want_  you to be a just another name on a list. You deserve more than that. You deserve to lose your virginity to someone who’ll, I dunno. Someone who’ll treasure it. Someone unlike me.”

What if I don’t want anyone else? The words echo in Kyungsoo’s mind but he bites his injured lip, winces at the sting. “Virginity is a construct,” Kyungsoo responds dryly.

At that, Chaneyol laughs and pats Kyungsoo on the head. They walk home in comfortable silence.

The conversation doesn’t come up again.

 

Kyungsoo’s thirst is melted away with the last remnants of ice and snow and the hectic swing of spring kicks in. Keeping up with club activities and thrusting himself fully into his mounting studies keeps him sane but not at all sated. His heart hurts to be around Chanyeol and every fucking love song he listens to these days reminds Kyungsoo of him and he starts thinking sappy things like how Chanyeol’s hair, recently dyed blue-black and sexier than ever, reminds him of forlorn night skies and glittering sinfulness. He wants to paint him with the colors of his yearning and write fucking sonnets about the curve of his stupid mouth, spend hours counting his eyelashes and  _god_.

He’s got it bad.

 

Kyungsoo is saddened to find out that the old vintage record shop has since been closed down. He doesn’t know how long it’s been closed; he and Chanyeol haven’t had much time to visit again because of school. But the windows have begun to collect dust and the space is virtually vacant. He knows Chanyeol will be just as devastated to hear it’s gone.

Curiosity gets the better of him; he discovers the door is unlocked and wanders in without much thought about trespassing. There are a few records piled up and a single record player in the corner. He moves to see if it works, puts on the first record he’d grabbed, an Elvis album, and it plays clear only to scratch and stutter not a moment later.

He’s walking to the train station to go back home when an idea hits him so hard he staggers. He dashes to various street vendors and manages to buy food (greasy but doable) and a blanket (a dingy hand knitted thing from an old woman with a wide smile and grubby hands). He has enough cash on him to pop by an instrument shop and purchase the cheapest ukulele on the shelf.

With his arms full, he returns to the record shop where he climbs up to the roof and spreads out his picnic, shoots a text to Chanyeol asking him to meet him there asap, hoping his student council meeting has finished and that he’ll be able to come. His heart pounds as he waits for a response, beams when Chanyeol replies, saying he’s on the way.

It’s far from ideal. It's too spontaneous. But it's romantic enough of a gesture that hope runs in spatethroughhisveins. He’ll confess while playing Ready For Love on his uke (which he isn’t one hundred percent sure how to play but he’ll figure it out). Maybe it’s corny. But no one could turn down someone who went to such lengths, right? He doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before.

There’s a flaw in his plan. Everything looks perfect until the heavens seem to scorn him. The sky goes dark and thunder rumbles, a torrent of rain thrumming down.

His plan is ruined. Just like that.

Chanyeol arrives a few minutes later, still in his uniform and armed with an umbrella like a smart person who checks the weather. Kyungsoo’s clothes are soaked through as he tries to clean up his picnic which has been scattered everywhere by the wind.

He probably looks even more childish and unattractive to Chanyeol than ever now.

“What the hell is this?” Chaneyol projects over the thunder. “You’re going to get sick.  _Again_!”

 

Chanyeol helps Kyungsoo clean up as thoroughly as they can while standing under one umbrella and they wait out a good part of the storm in the car. By some miracle, Chanyeol has blankets and a dry change of clothes in his trunk. Kyungsoo wonders if he also might have an invisibility cloak somewhere in there. Chanyeol helps him wrap up tightly in the passenger seat and silence floods the car as Kyungsoo’s body shivers.

Chanyeol doesn’t look cheerful at all. “Are you okay? What was that stunt all about?”

Kyungsoo licks at his chapped lips. “I…I just wanted to do something nice for you for a change,” he musters.

“Don’t be silly, kid.”

Silly. Kid. The words singe. And it comes out all at once, without Kyungsoo intending to, but his chest feels swarming with too-pent up feelings and his throat is parched like he may start crying soon. He can’t stop the words that bubble up his throat, frantic, frothing vomit. “I don’t give a single flying fuck if you’re a slut. I don’t just wanna lose it to you--I mean I  _do_  want that, but I also wanna date the shit out of you. And I  _get_  that you think I’m young and inexperienced or whatever but that’s irrelevant to me; I’m old enough to make my own decisions and I know what I want and that’s you, it’s  _always_  been you.”

And Chanyeol gawks at him for a minute, then bursts out laughing--a dry, churlish sound.

Anger surges, floods through the dam of Kyungsoo’s repression, hot tears pouring like acid rain down his cheeks. “ _You_  don’t know what you want. You’ve lead me on for nearly a year! Do you know how shitty I’ve felt because of you? How belittling it is to have you look at me like I’m the only person that matters and then kiss me and toss me aside like a fucking cum-sock you didn’t need anymore? It’s infuriating and it makes me feel like nothing when all I want is to be everything to you!”

Kyungsoo has to clasp his own two hands over his mouth to shut himself up and he’s sobbing so hard he starts to hyperventilate. This is  _not_  how his confession was supposed to go.

Chanyeol goes quiet at his side. “Kyungsoo, I had no idea you felt that strongly. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I swear.”

 “Just forget it,” Kyungsoo manages, hiccupping over his words. “Take me home.”

 

Kyungsoo ends up with nothing but a head cold and a battered heart later that night. He’s shut down completely, refuses to speak to Chanyeol who has insisted on making sure Kyungsoo eats, showers and gets into bed. Kyungsoo lets him tuck him in even though his touch sears against his skin. All Kyungsoo wants to do is cry himself to sleep.

Chanyeol is standing over his bed and Kyungsoo has his back to him, refuses to face him, is too humiliated to do so. Kyungsoo hears the rustle of the older boy donning his jacket and thank  _god_  he’s leaving.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Chanyeol asks, voice piercing protracted silence.  “I can get Baekhyun to make you more soup just in case you--”

“I’m fine. Go.”

Chanyeol heaves a sigh and the bed dips as he sits. Kyungsoo screws his eyes shut and lets out a trembling breath. “Kyungsoo…”

“Just go!” Finally turning to face Chanyeol, Kyungsoo shoots a look at him that’s supposed to be intimidating but probably comes off as pathetic to Chanyeol because tears well up in Kyungsoo's eyes again and Chanyeol grimaces, reaches out to touch him.

Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol in the chest once, twice, but Chanyeol doesn’t budge. With all his might, Kyungsoo shoves him harder, so hard that his hands ache with the brunt of it. Chanyeol doesn’t even wince.

Unbidden, Chanyeol kisses him deeply and Kyungsoo recoils, steaming.

“You think you can just kiss me and make everything better, you asshole?" he shouts, throat scratchy. "You really are a piece of shit, you know that?”

“I’m sorry. But please don’t shut me off, Kyungsoo. That's the last thing I want. Because despite what you believe, I care about you, dammit. I care about you more than you could fathom and I know I’m a piece of shit. And if I  _weren’t_  such a piece of shit, I would have _jumped_ at the chance to date you, first chance I got.”

Kyungsoo softens. “Don’t say things just because you think it’s what I wanna hear.”

“I mean it. I only laughed at your confession because you threw me for a loop and I was nervous."

Kyungsoo's stomach plummets.

Fingers clammy and vibrating, Chanyeol swipes at Kyungsoo's fringe. "You mean so much to me. I thought I’d be doing you a favor by not getting you involved with the likes of me and I tried my damndest, believe me, but by then it was too late.”

Sheens of melancholy glaze over Chanyeol’s eyes and Kyungsoo shouldn’t let him off the hook this easy; his emotions are in tatters because of him but he’s wanted this for an eternity. So, he grabs the lapels of Chanyeol’s jacket and kisses him breathless. And there’s a moment where he can feel all his anxieties dither, fade to black, soothing waves of relief washing up against an entire shore of hurt.

 

The next Monday, they both show up to first period with the sniffles, but neither of them are mad about it. And it feels like the entire world has flipped. Everything is different; the looks between them are brimming with yearning, their touches linger in places they haven’t before, more frequently and it makes Kyungsoo feel like he’s floating in a dream.

They’re sitting face to face in one another’s laps on the floor, Kyungsoo’s legs over Chanyeol’s thighs, Chanyeol’s large hands at Kyungsoo’s waist. School has ended but club activities and sports practices are still very much active and Kyungsoo had followed without objection when Chanyeol had dragged him out of poetry club by the hand to "make copies". They never did quite make it to the copier, had taken a detour into an empty, unlocked classroom and lost track of time. And Kyungsoo genuinely believes he could make out with Chanyeol forever, would be content with dying this way (which might not be impossible considering the way his heart is careening).

Chanyeol is focused on him only, his hands moving up to cup his face, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks, kissing him filthy and Kyungsoo is dizzy with the headiness of it. There’s a cramp in his leg and he’s sweaty from nerves. He’s sure his hair is in disarray but he's fine with that, because as he grips Chanyeol’s tie to kiss him deeper, he tastes like starburst and sleep and though it’s not their first kiss, it feels new, special. And when Chanyeol sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and _bites_ , Kyungsoo knows he’s very much awake.

“So, are we good?” Chanyeol asks, corners of his spit-slick lips quirking up into a smirk.

Kyungsoo just leans back in to kiss the arrogance off his lips in response.

 

Chanyeol has become his biggest distraction. Concentrating in school has never been this difficult for Kyungsoo, but he’s less worried about the fact that his grade point average is doomed to drop and more preoccupied with keeping up with Chanyeol’s antics.

They’re supposed to be studying for a test tomorrow, but had barely gotten through the first set of questions when Chanyeol had decided to neglect Trig in favor of pressing his lips to Kyungsoo’s.

They’re tangled up in Kyungsoo’s bed, his door locked out of habit and his parents lounging about downstairs. Chanyeol’s got his hand shoved down the front of Kyungsoo’s boxer shorts, tugging at his cock as he bites back moans.

Suddenly there’s a resounding knock at the door and Kyungsoo’s heart drops.

“Do you boys need anything?” his mom asks and Chanyeol doesn’t stop touching him, forces him to answer her with his hand tight around his dick.

“N-no, we’re fine,” Kyungsoo manages to choke out. He’s mortified.

Judging by the smirk on his lips and the fire in his eyes, Kyungsoo is  _sure_  Chanyeol has a kink for this sort of thing.

Kyungsoo comes violently into the circle of Chanyeol’s palm as his mom’s footfalls descend down the corridor.

“You ass!” Kyungsoo shouts once he’s sure his mother is out of hearing range, slapping Chanyeol in the gut. “What if she’d heard us? What if the door hadn’t been locked and she’d walked in on us?”

Cleaning his hand off with Kyungsoo's bedside tissues, Chanyeol’s still leering at him. “I guess it’s a good thing she didn’t, then.”

“Cool," Kyungsoo deadpans. "I’ve got a freak for a boyfriend." He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Is that what we are? Boyfriends?” Chanyeol asks, voice a teasing warble, finger poking at Kyungsoo’s ribs. Kyungsoo moves to slap at him but Chanyeol counters it, traps his wrists and pulls him into a hug.  “Mm. Boyfriends. It sounds so nice.”

“You’d better drop all your side hoes, stat,” Kyungsoo mumbles into Chanyeol’s chest and he’d intended for it to be a joke but it just ends up sounding resentful to his own ears.

“Way ahead of you. I deleted my Instagram.”

Kyungsoo recoils to gape at Chanyeol; he had _not_  expected that. “You  _didn’t_.”

Chanyeol shows him the proof on his phone and Kyungsoo steeps in disbelief.

“Maybe I can start it up again and we could just upload pictures of the two of us. It could be like, a cute boyfriend account. Boyfriendstagram.”

“That literally just made me barf in my mouth a little bit.”

“Shut up and take a quick nap with me.”

Kyungsoo obliges, sets his timer because Chanyeol needs to be back home in an hour.

They end up sleeping through the alarm and Kyungsoo panics when he wakes up to see the sun shining through his curtains and Chanyeol’s messy mop of hair still poking out from beneath his sheets. Adrenaline and panic course through him at once as he sneaks Chanyeol downstairs out the back door and past his parents that morning. They remain oblivious. Kyungsoo feels strangely proud.

 

Exam preparations kick both of their asses; their schedules are jam-packed with late nights of cramming and revision and days rambling around school like zombies with only naps to look forward to in the middle. The frustration is unbearable and they manage the odd, ill-planned makeout session to keep them sane.

Chanyeol’s got his hands down the back of Kyungsoo’s slacks, kneading at his ass, tongue shoved down his throat, relentless, voracious, only breaking off to nip at the sensitive stretch of skin between Kyungsoo’s jaw and ear. With intent, he spreads Kyungsoo’s asscheeks, circles a finger around his fluttering rim and prods, pushes in just enough to make Kyungsoo whine.

“Bet you’d look  _perfect_  taking my cock in this tight little ass. Wanna fill you up right here where anyone could walk in and hear us,  _see_  us.  _God_ , the thought alone has me so fucking hard right now.”

Chanyeol presses his cock against Kyungsoo for emphasis and Kyungsoo  _knew_  Chanyeol was into this shit. Maybe he’s into it too, if the way his own cock leaks in interest is any indication. He’s rocking down against Chanyeol’s finger when a braying voice stops them both, and they freeze like a pair of criminals who’ve just been discovered by the cops.

 “Kyungsoo! Kyungsoo, are you in here?” Jongdae shouts, his voice growing louder and nearer. “I need your notes, damnit!”

They scramble; Chanyeol fits his back up against the stall’s wall and Kyungsoo clambers to stand on top of the toilet.

“Chanyeol? Chanyeol, I  _know_  those are your ugly ass converse.”

Once they realize the door isn’t locked it’s too late; Jongdae busts into the stall and discovers them.

“Have you seen--?” Jongdae stops and gawks between them, realization draining the color from his face. “Kyungsoo? Holy  _fuck_! Were ya’ll havin’ butt-sex in here?!”

Chanyeol snorts, Kyungsoo loses balance and his foot slips. _Great._ His shoe, sock and pants leg are drenched in toilet water.

 

(Jongdae chews him out over the phone that evening.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you two were official. I thought I was your best friend, you little slut!”

“We just made it official like a week ago.”

“Stop making excuses. Just know I wanna be the best man at your big gay wedding.”)

  

Exams conclude and things come to a lull again as the end of the year draws near.

Chanyeol's dad is going away on Friday night until Saturday afternoon, and he permits Chanyeol to have the place entirely to himself, a leisure he’d only allowed in daylight in the past. Elated, Chanyeol invites Minseok, Yixing, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo over to give his brand new HTC Vive a whirl (his dad makes sure Chanyeol hadn’t been lying about who he was inviting and watches the five of them pile up in the living-room with his own eyes before leaving).

Sometime between Baekhyun crying for reasons he refuses to disclose and Yixing barfing from eating one too many gourmet liqueur chocolates, Chanyeol traps Kyungsoo against his pantry door and tells him how he wishes they could’ve had the place to themselves.

Chanyeol's forehead is pressed to Kyungsoo's, eyes fixed to his mouth. “There was no chance in hell my dad was going to let me have a sleep over with a cute boy while he’s away.”

“Does this mean I have to leave with everyone else?” Kyungsoo asks, breath fraying.

Chanyeol smirks. "What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

 

It’s past midnight when their friends finally leave. While waving them off, Chanyeol’s hand snakes its way to Kyungsoo’s ass, grabs a greedy handful and immediately afterwards, he sweeps him up in his arms bridal style, hauling him up to his room with urgency and pins him to his bed. Kyungsoo comes a total of three times that night and he’s never been this blissful.

The next morning, Kyungsoo’s internal clock wakes him up far too early for his tastes and he yawns, soft, white touches of morning filtering into the room, fuzzy and divine, like a distant memory. Chanyeol is snoring loud enough to raise the dead. And Kyungsoo has the briefest urge to scream into his ear to wake him up, but instead he grabs Chanyeol’s acoustic guitar and strums the chords to  _Ready For Love,_  quietly at first, then he lets them ring at full volume until Chanyeol surges awake.

Kyungso croons the lyrics to the best of his ability, even if his voice is hoarse, even if his heart is thundering against his chest with the weight of Chanyeol’s gaze on him. He communicates how he feels successfully after nearly a year of repression and by the end of the song, Chanyeol is moved to tears. Kyungsoo hits him on the back and teases him for being such a big baby, then kisses him tender.

The remainder of the morning is filled with naps accompanied by sloth-like cuddles, lazy kisses dipped in tranquility, and both nonsensical and meaningful conversation.

“You’re out to your dad?” Kyungsoo asks in nothing but one of Chanyeol’s oversized hoodies, head cradled in Chanyeol’s chest as the older boy runs his fingers up and down the bumps of his spine.

“Yeah.”

“How did he take it?”

“He wasn’t happy about it, that’s for sure,” Chanyeol tells him, turning to press his lips to Kyungsoo’s forehead. “But he didn’t make as big of a deal out of it as I thought he might. When i was little, instilling the doctrines of Catholicism in me took precedence over everything he did, but as i got older, he made an effort to reiterate that I could live my life however I wanted. As long as I don’t rub my eccentricities in his face or disrespect his house or his church, he doesn’t care. These days he doesn’t knock anything I do, save for maybe my smoking habit. But mom died from lung cancer so I think I can understand that one. He’s a super traditional guy and is big on respect; his ideals are somewhat bigoted but his attitude is pretty laid-back.”

Kyungsoo twists his fingers into the fabric of Chanyeol’s shirt, lifts his chin to look at him. “Does he know about us?”

“I didn’t tell him, but I think he may suspect that you’re more than a friend. He’s hella attuned. I don’t think any of our friends even suspect that anything is going on between us yet. But then again, they’re all dumb little shits.” Chaneyol hadn’t come out to his friends formally, they all just sort of surmised that he wasn’t straight and were supportive about it. “What about you? Who’re you out to?”

“Just Jongdae and Sehun. And I think my old friend Irene always knew, maybe even before I did. But she and I stopped speaking because of a petty fight. I kind of regret drifting from her.”

“What about your mom and step dad?”

Kyungsoo rubs at his temples. “My step dad would be fine with it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to come out to my mom. Not even because I’m scared of how she’ll react, just because…I dunno. We’re not close. We never really have been. We don’t converse about things; i refuse to confide in her because I’m stubborn and she’s nonchalant and sometimes it feels like she doesn’t even give a shit, so in a way, it's like she doesn’t deserve to know? Maybe it’s a childish way to think, but.” His voice trickles off and Chanyeol rubs his back reassuringly. “Even before my dad died, we didn't bond like a mother and her young son should. Admittedly, I  _was_  a difficult child towards her; I only ever wanted my father's company and I feel like she was jealous of our connection. She never tried very hard to make me like her, though. I resented her and it makes me think she’s to blame for the way I am, why I ended up so unruly as a preteen and why I completely shut down and closed myself off from basically everyone, a patch of empty soil while everything around it flourished.” Kyungsoo’s chest is tight. He’s never shared this much of himself with anyone and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until Chanyeol is dabbing wetness from his cheek with gentle fingers.

“It doesn’t have to be like that anymore,” Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo, eyes soft. “You can always talk to me, to your friends. Okay?”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

 

“You’re the worst,” Kyungsoo rasps as he watches Chanyeol’s mouth work over his cock. They’re in the back seat of Chanyeol’s Maserati because neither of their respective houses is ideal for this at the moment.

Kyungsoo's curfew had already been over for a full thirty minutes when Chanyeol had called him and claimed that he needed to see him, that it was urgent. Kyungsoo had slipped past his parents and their friends (who were still lingering throughout the house, entrenching upon Kyungsoo’s privacy after a small dinner party), and out the door in nothing but his Adventure Time slippers and matching pajama pants (which Chanyeol had snorted at before promptly stripping Kyungsoo out of).

They’ve never done anything like this before; that’s why Kyungsoo hadn’t opposed, just watched Chanyeol slot his large frame between his thighs with owlish eyes and pure curiosity.

It feels one hundred times better than anything he could have concocted in a dream, even if he is embarrassingly wet before Chanyeol can even go down on him fully, even if he teases him with that sinful tongue of his, makes a display of letting the string of precum connecting from Kyungsoo's tip to his tongue stretch and snap. The sight makes Kyungsoo even wetter. Chanyeol lets spit trickle out of his mouth onto Kyungsoo’s dick, holding eye contact as he takes him back in to the hilt, slurps wantonly around him, his hair obstructing his vision as the moonlight plays against his features.

Kyungsoo comes partially in Chanyeol’s mouth, makes an effort to spurt the rest in Chanyeol’s hair and Chanyeol just slicks it back from his face like it’s nothing. Chanyeol coddles Kyungsoo as he cleans the younger boy up, doesn’t care if his expensive leather seats are sticky and Kyungsoo is warm, soft, sleepy and sated once Chanyeol finally dips down to kiss him.

“The fucking  _worst_.”

“You love me, really.”

 

Kyungsoo didn’t have time to return the favor; he had three missed calls from his step dad. Additionally, Father Park had discovered them just moments after Kyungsoo had come down his son’s throat, tapped on the window of Chanyeol’s Meserati as they were basking in the afteglow and calmly asked Chanyeol to come inside (Kyungsoo hadn’t missed the knowing, sidelong glance Father Park had thrown his way).

Kyungsoo wants to repay Chanyeol, but he doesn’t know how to articulate it. He has half a mind to abandon all tact and just attack Chanyeol in Trigonometry class, blow him right then and there (and he  _definitely_  has the potential to become just as much of an exhibitionist as Chanyeol is).

Chanyeol’s just as desperate for it, and Kyungsoo thinks that maybe the chapel isn’t the best place for his boyfriend to conduct a lesson on blowjob etiquette, but Kyungsoo  _needs_ this.

Out of sight behind the podium, he should feel shame under the scrutiny of the figure of Christ on the cross hung from ceiling above them, but Chanyeol’s got a halo of rainbow colored sunlight dancing around his head from the stained glass windows, breath bated and sweat matting his hair to his face.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol curses, head lolling back, clunking against the wooden podium and Kyungsoo can’t take his eyes off how his Adam’s apple bobs as he struggles to gulp for air. “Just like that, you’re doing such a good job, baby.” Threading his fingers through Kyungsoo's hair and running his thumb over where his lips are stretched around his cock, he lifts his hips up to push himself further down Kyungsoo’s throat, smirks as Kyungsoo chokes. Kyungsoo recovers without hitch and proceeds to devote himself to the task.

He doesn’t feel guilty as he sucks Chanyeol's orgasm out of him and thinks that such an enrapturing sight should  _only_  be for himself and God to see. He feels higher than ever, on top of the world as Chanyeol showers him with praises.

 

Chanyeol all but yanks Kyungsoo into a cramped hall at his eighteenth birthday party. A Nirvana song is blaring so loudly he almost misses what Chanyeol tells him next.

“We should probably keep our distance from here on out.”

Kyungsoo thinks this is a shitty time to impose this; he’s just started to get on a sugar high from the cookie dough icecream he’d been eating. His face drops from its previously happy state into one that sends visible tremors through Chanyeol’s body where he stands under Kyungsoo’s gaze. Kyungsoo licks his lips, laps up remnants of melted icecream from his fingers, watches as Chanyeol’s eyes follow his movements, before tossing his cone into the trash.

“You’re deciding to tell me this now? After I fucked you open with my fingers this morning?”

“I-I was born in the evening so technically it didn’t count. Plus you looked hot as hell this morning. But from this point on, I think we should try to take a vow of celibacy.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kyungsoo takes slow steps towards Chanyeol. Chanyeol retreats until his back collides into the wall behind him with a thud that makes him yelp.

Kyungsoo smirks, presses himself against Chanyeol. “You don’t have it in you to say no to me.”

“Please, Soo. I need you to do this for me.”

Kyungsoo trails kisses up Chanyeol’s neck and jaw. “Then tell me to stop.” Chanyeol’s tense and quivering, his fists balled up at his side. “Just say the word.” Languidly, Kyungsoo kisses him on the mouth, smiles into it as Chanyeol’s hands come up to rest on either side of his waist and pull him in close, tongue seeking, hips rocking against him.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol breathes, an admittance of defeat and Kyungsoo thinks this is child’s play. In a flash, Chanyeol switches their positions, hikes Kyungsoo up so that his legs instinctively wrap around his waist and holds him firm against the wall.

The echo of footsteps resounds and Chanyeol panics, drops Kyungsoo to his feet. Baekhyun is attached to Sehun’s mouth as the other backs him towards the wall in graceless steps.

Kyungsoo feels dense for not noticing they were an item. Everything makes so much sense now.

Sehun notices them first and scrutinizes their posture; Kyungsoo’s head is hung low and Chanyeol's scratching at the back of his neck. Baekhyun rocks on his toes and seeks Sehun’s lips, eyes opening when the younger boy doesn’t reciprocate and he whirls around to face Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

“Whoa, what the hell?” Baekhyun barks, eyes flitting between them. Realization like lightning strikes him. “Wait. Were the two of you…?”

Sehun breaks out into a slow clap. “Congrats,” he sings.

“You  _knew_  about this?” Baekhyun yells, snatching Sehun up by the collar.  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

And at this rate, the whole party will know about Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s relationship.

 

In the following weeks, Chanyeol becomes resolute about the whole celibacy thing. He denies every single one of Kyungsoo’s sexual advances, determinedly brushing Kyungsoo’s hands away when they get too brazen. He keeps their kisses chaste and Kyungsoo is kept frustrated and irate at first, pushes more than he should, but before long, he falls into a routine. He tries to convince himself to believe handholding and innocent cuddles are enough.

(They’re not).

 

Kyungsoo is blubbering more than any parent in the crowd as he watches Chanyeol and his other friends graduate, waving them off like a proud mom (they look embarrassed as he steals Sehun’s camera from his hands to snap pictures of his own). He skips their graduation party without informing anyone and boards a plane by himself to visit his cousin in South Korea for a good part of the summer because he doesn’t trust himself around Chanyeol. Chanyeol isn’t upset with him. They come to an agreement to only text and call one another. Any form of video chatting would be too compromising, too tempting.

Baekhyun’s not so forgiving.

“I can’t believe you just up and bounced like that, you little shit!" Baekhyun whines over FaceTime one day. He’s got his ass planted in Sehun’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him like a monkey. "I was worried; I thought you died, or worse, went back into the closet.” He shudders and Kyungsoo chuckles.

“Sorry," Kyungsoo says. "I just  _had_  to get a change of scenery.”

“Chanyeol’s No Sex rule getting to you that badly?”

Sehun nudges Baekhyun and narrows his eyes at him.

“What? We’re all girls here.”

Kyungsoo smiles. “It’s hell.”

“You nerds will make it through this,” Baekhyun reassures. “I know it. You’re too cute together to fail. Not cuter than me and Hunnie, but still.”

“Thank you guys. I mean it. For everything.”

 

Chanyeol doesn’t give his dad any indication of the fact that he’s planed to whisk Kyungsoo away to his summer home and spend the last couple days of summer together before Chanyeol has to leave for college.

“It’s not exactly sneaking around because he said I could use it whenever I wanted,” Chanyeol had told Kyungsoo. “And it’d be nice to spend some time together. Just the two of us.”

It’s an old cabin-like house with a rustic flare, surrounded by acres of flourishing green accented by a serene lakefront view, and as they haul their bags inside and settle in, Kyungsoo tries not to think of how he wants Chanyeol to fuck him on every single flat surface of the house.

After a much needed refreshing dip in the lake, they take a hike through the grounds and it feels like old times, before they were lovers. Equipped with beers and their guitars, they cozy up around a campfire and play songs (Kyungsoo hates smores but he makes Chanyeol as many as he can eat). Kyungsoo doesn’t even care that his guitar is slightly out of tune because there’s the stupidest, most contagious smile he's ever seen plastered on Chanyeol’s face and his eyes are dancing orange with the light of the fire. Kyungsoo wishes they could stay like this forever.

They spend the rest of the night holed up in Chanyeol’s gaming room and Kyungsoo has no relish for video games, so he just sits back and watches, tries not to sulk too much. He fails. It becomes unbearable when Chanyeol gets into an argument with a twelve-year-old on XBox Live, and Kyungsoo finds himself yanking Chanyeol’s headset off, tossing it aside, climbing into his lap and kissing him.

Chanyeol wraps his hand around the back of Kyungsoo’s neck for control, guides him to his lips in short searing pecks, looking at him in between and Kyungsoo can't pinpoint the emotion swimming in his eyes.

“It’s late," Chanyeol says. "Let’s get to bed, okay?”

Chanyeol insisted on spending the night in separate rooms; Kyungsoo gets ready for bed while sweltering in his solitude. A wave of emotions overtakes him and as he stares at his dismal reflection in the mirror, he knows this won’t do. He collects his resolve and armed with poise and a pillow, he traipses down the hall and into Chanyeol’s room.

Chanyeol’s already settled into in bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Can I sleep in here with you, please?" Kyungsoo begs. "I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Kyungsoo plops down next to him and Chanyeol rolls over to face him, lends him a soft smile before returning to his internet browsing. And Kyungsoo knows he’s pushing things, tries with all his might not to get handsy with the older boy, but he fails. His fingers trace the enticing outline of Chanyeol's bulge through his shorts of their own volition and Chanyeol redirects Kyungsoo’s hands to his shoulders, kissing him on the nose and then sweetly on the lips.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Chanyeol says against the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth. Kyungsoo’s heart jumps as he pulls away to look into his boyfriend’s eyes. “Promise.”

And two and a half years isn’t  _that_  long at all.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -this was a rollercoaster but so much fun to write,, it's my baby so i'd appreciate it greatly if u guys'd let me know how u liked it!!!!  
> -here's some of the mentioned music/songs that inspired this fic:  
> 1\. [india.arie- ready for love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxkMlS2nuU8)  
> 2\. [the 1975- if i believe you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_o0_q89IqVc)  
> 3\. [radiohead- daydreaming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTAU7lLDZYU)  
> 4\. [you+me- break the cycle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXmqfcyrnJU)  
> 5\. [ radiohead- creep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFkzRNyygfk)  
> 6\. [ alex vargas- oh love how you break me up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G68zMBmrmTk)  
> 7\. [ disintegration anxiety- explosions in the sky ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xT2UmlUmDQI)  
> -edit; some people seem to be confused as to why chanyeol proposed the whole celibacy thing. this fic is supposed to be set in america (wisconsin specifically) where the age of consent is 18 but kyungsoo is barely 15  
> -please stick around!! more to come soon!!


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